


two of coins

by duelbraids



Series: edcl week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Implied Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25159645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duelbraids/pseuds/duelbraids
Summary: prompts: flowers, change. days two and three. edelgard and claude must save each other, in the most fantastical and mundane ways.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Series: edcl week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821100
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35
Collections: Edelclaude Week





	1. the boy in the tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a flower field, a wyvern with puppy dog eyes, and luck bring together a boy trapped in a tower and a traveling painter

A traveling painter had come into a small village, hidden in the Leicester Alliance. Her name was Edelgard, and her appearance was strangely plain, for someone with a rather  _ striking  _ story. Brown hair tied into a high ponytail, and wearing high waisted brown breeches with suspenders over a simple white top, she was more equipped for adventure than she was for painting a portrait. Her walking boots were well worn, but sturdy.

Not that many people knew her story. A decade ago, she was the ninth princess of Adrestia, whose elder sister decided that the youngest girl (at the time, that is) wouldn’t be fodder for a political marriage. So, before her father could sign her away for a dowry, she had been disavowed from the family. At age ten, she was just Edelgard, who soon found an apprenticeship with Hanneman von Essar. Often, she had gone traveling with him, and got along well with her teacher, who treated her like his own. 

Edelgard von Essar, after completing her apprenticeship, had started traveling to satisfy her  _ own  _ curiosity. She made her living mostly, surprisingly, as a painter, capturing tableaus and selling them to nobles she met, who paid well enough for art whose worth they didn’t understand. Since she was well known for her adventures, often getting herself into the very situations she had to escape from, there were times in her travels where people requested help from her. And, really, it felt so rude to say no. 

After all, it did pay. And it let her meet new people, for she was a mainly solitary woman, and loneliness could kill.

Today, though, no one asked her to do anything, but certainly something had caught her eye. The town she was visiting was so small, and yet, there was a tower on the horizon. The tower itself was covered in poison ivy and brambles, as if it were abandoned. Yet, the structure wasn’t damaged, and there was an entire mechanical system on the outside, that she could see from afar. It loomed over the little town. She begins to head towards it, after checking in at the inn and requisitioning a room. 

Edelgard puts most of her things in the inn room, but packs a copper spyglass. Without thinking, she leaves her axe on her back.

As she walks, she realizes she’s just following an elderly woman, so she runs to catch up. “Excuse me, madame?” she taps on her shoulder. “Do you know anything about that tower?”

“That tower?” The old woman responds, almost laughing, “It’s only the tower that keeps the heir to the Reigan family locked up. Poor boy’s been there for a decade, and he’s twenty now.” 

“Really?” She’s taken aback, partially because that’s her age. That her life also changed when she was naught but ten does not escape her, even if it’s just a coincidence, “Do you visit him, then?” 

The woman shakes her head, “No… There’s not a door into that tower. I just drop off food on a little pulley system for him.” 

“That’s very sweet of you, madame.” Edelgard smiles, trying to coax more information out of her. “Surely, there must be a reason he’s in there?” 

“Oh, it’s a sad tale, girl.” The old woman tuts her tongue, “Well, the boy’s mother and father had died in a series of accidents, alongside his uncle and many other members of the Deirdru court. His grandfather, the current duke, thought to protect him by building the doorless tower and locking him in there.” she then sighs, shaking her head, “It’s sweet, if misguided.” 

Edelgard couldn’t bring herself to agree, but she nodded anyways, if only because it intrigued her so. “What will happen when the Duke passes?” 

“The heir will rule from his tower. They already have mail set up for him.” She says it as if it’s obvious. The old woman starts to slow, and puts her hand in her lower back. 

“Hm.” Edelgard responds. She’s quite certain that won’t work. What’s to stop the other nobles from simply lying to him, using his signature to do whatever they please, and leaving the heir none the wiser? However, she just turns and asks, “Are you alright, madame? Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, sure, dear.” The older woman hands her the basket, “Could you bring this to him? The walk’s getting bad on my back.” 

Edelgard takes it with a very placid look. “Of course.” The basket is heavy, but she carries it with ease. The woman leaves, and Edelgard can’t help but feel just a little victorious. Another might curse the need to do work, but she was far too curious about this tower, about this so-called heir. 

He certainly wasn’t locked in there for his own good, so… why? 

Not having to slow herself for the old woman, she’s upon the tower within a few moments. Edelgard, first, examines it, amazed. Indeed, it’s so covered in brambles and foliage that she certainly wouldn’t risk trying to climb it, and there’s no door. She sees an old pulley system, made of wood and rope, and then the new one, made of metal. The cogs and gears are clearly new, still gleaming in sunlight. Did the heir make this? It had to be recent. 

Curiosity strikes, and she grabs her spyglass, bringing it up to her left eye, and finding the window at the peak of the tower. The first thing she sees is how the heir is sitting, one leg swung over the side of the window sill, his own spyglass trained on the flower field outside of town. He wears clothes befitting an Alliance noble, quite dandy, if Edelgard must say. His face is brown, warm in the sunlight,  _ so handsome,  _ a face full of purity, and green eyes full of hidden mischief. 

But, soon, she’s been spotted, and the heir has turned his head to look at her. Vaguely, she tries to wave, but with the basket in her arms, it’s rather halfhearted. The heir waves back, and points to the pulley. It’s a question, one she answers by placing the basket down, before watching the platform rise, and then be brought inside the tower. 

The gears come to life, singing and humming as the platform ascends the tower. The heir, nor she, had to do anything. She must admit, it’s amazing; in her time she’d seen smaller models, but this must be nearly thousands of pounds and hundreds of hours of work. If he did make it, it’s quite impressive. 

Still with the spyglass, she watches his ledge, unable to see him as he’d walked back into what she must assume is a living space. He returns a few seconds later, and waves at her, awkwardly. A goodbye, she realizes, because he’s moved away again. She waves, realizing too late that she’s out of view.

What a strange man… Edelgard touches her cheeks, and they’re warm, blushed red. How silly,  _ he’s just an attractive man, Edelgard, you’ve seen plenty of those before.  _ Yet... Something’s different about him. She wants to meet him. Her adventures were usually solitary, but she was tempted to stay in town, just to find out. Just to meet him. 

* * *

The next day, Edelgard wakes early, a full agenda of things to explore and to discover. She’d gotten breakfast first, sitting at a little table in the corner of the bottom floor of the inn. While writing in her notebook, she listened to the lazy, mulling gossip of the morning. She takes another sip of tea, sketching. She wished to paint the flowers grown here, and was already planning the composition.

“Heard old Gloucester’s gon’ pass through ‘ere tomorrow.” The barkeep says to the same old woman Edelgard had talked to yesterday. 

“Really?” The woman chuckles, “He visiting the harvest festival in Bay Minette?” 

“Suppose so. Reckon he’s gon’ visit the Riegan heir?” the barkeeper brings over another glass of water to Edelgard, startling her. 

Her quiet  _ thank you, _ goes ignored, as the old woman laughs, a loud cackling. “Probably not,” she says, “He’ll be too busy complaining about the pigs.”

Edelgard tries not to laugh, she really tries not to. She shouldn’t be listening at all, instead, she should be thinking about paint hues, but it’s far too curious. Her cursory knowledge of the Alliance politics told her that the heir was the only person stopping Gloucester from taking the position of Duke once the current Riegan passed. 

He was the only person who benefited from the heir being in the tower, and Edelgard could not  _ wait  _ to at least try to pick the man apart. But, as she finishes her plate, she knows it’d be rude to linger.

She cleans up after herself, and takes the twenty minute trek to the flower field. Her arms are taken up by a folding easel and canvas, her paints in her bag. There’s also a few sweets in the bottom of her bag, some dried honey candy in case she gets hungry. It would only take a few hours to paint what she wanted, and then she could turn her attention on the heir, the tower. For now, though, she throws her painting smock over her head.

Setting up her easel, she catches sight of a wyvern, high in the air. They were rare, particularly free flying, and especially here, if she remembered correctly. She marvels, and decides she should paint it, too, in the landscape. Just a little detail, something to tie it to the moment.

However, soon, it leaves the sky, so she decides to paint it from memory. She’s so absorbed in her painting that she doesn’t pay attention to the slight jostle of the ground, thinking she’d just lost her footing. The ground was a little soft from a recent rain, after all. Her focus is on the canvas, when something pushes up, into her pack, and she turns around, expecting an errant dog.

Now, Edelgard was no expert on dog breeds, but she’s fairly certain that what she turns ‘round to face is  _ not  _ one. No, it’s a large, albino wyvern, though it’s looking at her with puppy dog eyes, so that must count for something. She soon realizes why - it probably smelled the sweets in her pack, and was prowling for treats. 

The wyvern is  _ surprisingly  _ docile, nosing up into her hand, “Hi, sweet thing,” she scratches under its chin, as she pulls her pack around. “Can you eat honey? Would you like some, sweets for a sweet thing?” It happily, playfully snaps at her hand, no mal intent involved. “Where’s your master, huh?” she asks, knowing a wyvern would never be this calm without training. “They certainly must be missing you. Such a pretty thing, you are! Yes, you are!” 

“Oh,” a voice from behind the wyvern calls, “He’s not missing his wyvern too much.” 

Edelgard feels a little sheepish and very foolish, realizing she’s been  **heard** baby talking to a wyvern, but she turns her head up to greet the wyvern’s master. For a moment, she has to blink the sunlight out of her eyes, but then, she sees the boy from the tower, and her brain takes a moment. “You are-”

“Yes, now, please, don’t say a word about it.” Up close, he’s just as handsome, which is very unfair to Edelgard, who is trying her best to keep her persona cool and calm. She needs to be able to interrogate - er, interview him.

The wyvern mouths at the candy in her hand, and she realizes the wyvern is absolutely a co-conspirator in making her flustered. “Right,” she tries, “But, why, exactly?” 

“Well, my paint inclined friend,” he calls her, which makes her squint at him, a little infuriated, “in case you have not noticed, I am  _ supposed  _ to be in that tower over there, but I’m not a  _ fan  _ of what’s  _ supposed  _ to be, so I leave as often as I please.”

“Right…” She puts on a polite smile, heart racing. She would question herself later, because right now, she had a thousand questions for him.  _ Why not leave, then,  _ being the first. It’d be cruel to poke and prod, and impolite, at least before… “Can I ask, what’s your name? Everyone’s simply called you  _ the heir _ .” 

“Surprised they even call me that anymore.” He scratches the wyvern’s back as he speaks, free hand fiddling with a necklace made of a rough, citrine gem. “You may call me Claude.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she offers her hand out, which he shakes, “I’m Edelgard.” They stand, in awkwardness, her questions burning her throat and her trained politeness telling her not to ask. “Was there… something you wanted, Claude?”

“You’re a new face.” He shrugs, “I don’t get to meet many of them, especially not one so curious.” 

“To be fair, I do not often come across men in towers without doors.” She turns back to her easel, continuing to work on the painting. Perhaps that would curb her curiosity. It doesn’t. “Did you make the machine outside the tower?” 

At that, a smile spread wide on Claude’s lips (and she can’t help but notice that it’s just his lips, he doesn’t smile with his eyes.) “What, like it’s hard?” 

“Well, I  _ was  _ going to compliment such a design, but it seems you’re  _ well  _ aware.” She teases. They both fall silent, before Edelgard cannot help and burst out, “Why stay in the tower? It seems pretty... Fantastical, that you would simply stay in that tower of your own free will. Why not find a tiny village somewhere and live in a normal house instead? Or even return to the Riegan estate?” 

“You’re quite right.” Falling into an easy pattern with her, he continues, “I _can’t_ leave. Of course, the reason itself is fantastical.” 

“Now,  _ that’s  _ fine. I’ve met plenty of strange, cursed individuals.” She snorts. “Or people, convinced of their own curses.” 

“Really?” Something about his voice strikes her as odd, as strained. Claude might sound nice and personable, but he was putting walls between them. Deliberately, trying his damndest, and Edelgard is amazed that she can tell. “You should tell me about it.” He gestures to her painting, “After all, you look like you’ve got quite the eye for detail.”

“Oh- Thank you. But, I’ll regale you with my stories later,  _ you, _ ” she pointedly starts a line in her painting, dragging downwards, “Are the one with the far more pressing information.”

“Of course.” He doesn’t sound happy to admit that, but, he continues. “For a long time, my beloved captors just trusted the lack of a door was enough, but then, I began climbing down the wall.”

“And that’s where the brambles came in, huh?” She notes, wiping the brush on her smock before picking a new color from her palette. 

“Yes, and my friend here came to the rescue. I’ve known her since I was a little kid, you see.” Claude starts to explain something else, “You really don’t know freedom until you’ve ridden a wyvern-”

“So, why _ don’t _ you fly away? This all seems  _ very  _ unnecessary, you know, if he did this for your protection.” 

“Huh?” 

That was the confusion she wanted. Without turning round, she advances her theoretics, “According to those in the town, your grandfather put you in the tower because he was afraid of your meeting an untimely end, after your parents and uncle-” 

“My parents are very much alive,” his voice is sharp, and even his wyvern raises on her hackles, “Don’t  _ say  _ that _.”  _ He sighs, and Edelgard knows she must look back at him. Claude’s face is downcast, his fingers still playing with that necklace. “My grandfather isn’t the best man, but he’s not to blame for this.”

“Count Gloucester is.” Edelgard responds, and then, her face softer, “I apologize for needling you, I just couldn’t risk accusing the most powerful Count of a conspiracy to kidnap you without some proof. I don’t have the same grace for that sort of thing as I used to.” 

Trying to return to his previous levity, he snorts, “Who would I tell about it, Dunyazad?”

“Oh, is that her name? How pretty!” She lets him drop the subject. For now. 

“Please, don’t start baby-talking my wyvern, again.” 

Edelgard rolls her eyes, and asks, “And why is that?”

“It’s the cutest thing I’ve seen, and if you want my very serious tale, you can’t be cute.” 

“Well, she’s much more conversational than you. You haven’t even answered my question.” 

Claude deflated, before looking up at the sky. “It’s almost midday…” he mutters, and Edelgard wonders if he thinks she didn’t hear it. “It’s… hard to explain, so instead,” he opens his left arm, “Hold onto me.” 

“What-” Her confusion doesn't stop her, and a little uncomfortably, she wraps her arms around his middle. And, right as she does, her stomach drops, her feet feel like they fall out from underneath her. Enveloped in darkness for a few seconds, Edelgard lets out a yelp, undignified, and when she’s back on solid ground, she glares at him.

The anger dissipates, though, as they are no longer in the woods. Instead, they’re inside a stone building, and she sees the interior to the metal pulley system, a bed against the wall, archery targets and a kitchenette, with the basket she’d sent up the day before. Despite her disorientation, she recognizes: they are in the tower. Claude’s prison. 

* * *

Claude explained, eventually, that he owned a cursed necklace. Were he to wander from the tower, it would simply warp him back, at midday and midnight, no matter how far he’d tried to go, having once traveled for the full twelve hours, only to find his feet back on that cobblestone room.

It had been put on him at knife point, and now that it was around his neck, he couldn’t do anything about it. He’d tried the obvious “take it off over your head,” and his hands had burned at the attempt. Then, he’d tried to cut the necklace off with a knife, and somehow, he’d only managed to nick his neck. He’d even flown to a jeweler, but when he heard the necklace was cursed, had turned Claude away. 

And her hunch was right. Claude had been kidnapped by agents working for Count Gloucester, and placed in the tower. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Duke Riegan had to make a choice; reveal the plot and lose his last heir, or take credit for the idea, phrase it as protection, and bow to Gloucester, who now acted basically as the duke.

He’d told her this over a game of chess, which she thought was both strange and a  _ little bit _ pandering - if he knew her, he would know that she loved chess matches. But he doesn’t, right? Edelgard feels weird, thinking that she should know him too. But, she shakes her head, and makes her next move. “I… wish I could do something to help you.” she admits. 

“So do a lot of people.” Claude shrugs. 

“I’m serious!” Her voice peaks, and she’s confused by that too. 

“I know.” he moves his piece. “A lot of people say things they mean but never act on.”

Almost offended, she responds, “I am not someone who speaks empty words.” 

Claude nods, assuaging, “I’m not saying you are. People just find out how hopeless the scenario is and usually turn tail.” 

At first, she almost reaches to touch his hand, but she sees him move away, purposeful, wary, so she decides against it. “Well, I have no plans to leave until we’ve worked this out.” 

There’s surprise on his face, and Claude studies her. As if he’s searching for the  _ gotcha,  _ or just trying to understand. “You didn’t come off as the hero type to me.” he comments.

“Perhaps if my life were different, I would not be.” She comments, and then shakes her head, “Well, that’s true for everyone, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed. I’d wager I’d be a very different man had I not come to Fodlan.” Claude is melancholic only for a moment, and Edelgard simply… lets him. She doesn’t know how to help, but thinks she won’t help by trying to push the topic further. Indeed, he perks up, when she claims his king. “Now, why don’t go rescue your easel before Dunyazad tries to eat it.”

* * *

They hadn’t, actually, gone to rescue her easel. Claude had pointed out something in the distance, and Edelgard became well aware that he was making up excuses to spend more time together. Somehow, she couldn’t find a place to complain. Instead, by now, they are walking hand in hand, in the town over, where lanterns have been lit for some local celebration.  _ This must be Bay Minette,  _ she thinks. 

Claude had gone to watch a street performance - her heart doing… very funny things at the sight. She rationalizes it away. To spend ten years, lonely and only having short escapes… Somehow, she thinks she’s been that person, perhaps in another life. Then, she remembers that multiple lives was, at most, an unproven theory, and she shouldn’t give it much credence. 

Instead, she approaches him with fair food in her hands, handing him a meat skewer. “Thanks.” 

“How long has it been, since you’ve been to a festival like this, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I never thought to try and go to one.” Claude admits, “I… haven’t had this much fun since I was a kid.” Then, without warning, he turns his head to look only at her, and a very soft, true smile, crinkling around his eyes. This time, he reaches for her hand, and she lets him take it, the rough calluses somehow a comfort.

_ Oh.  _ “I’m glad, I truly am.” She tries to keep her voice level.

The festival continued on, as the hour turned later and children were ushered into their homes for bedtime. They’d been dancing together, when a barker had tried to usher them over.

“Come, come!” he called to Claude, pointing at him, “Want to impress the little missie with a game of strength? One gold to play, and if you hit the bell, you’ll earn your money back, doubled!”

Claude, with a goofy smile on his lips, turned to Edelgard. She rolled her eyes. “Those are rigged.” she tells him, “Don’t bother.” 

“Nothing’s rigged if you’re clever enough,” is exactly how he responds. He hands the prerequisite gold coin over, and Edelgard just stands back, to watch with amusement. 

With a few seconds of silence, Claude is seemingly studying the game for a moment, before he tossed the mallet back and forth between his hands. Though he clearly puts his back into the swing, she watches the precision more than the strength, and sure enough, the bell is rung, and the poor barker has to hand over two gold. 

Claude returns to her side, and, when he reads her befuddlement, he explains, “It’s not really about strength. I’m sure that helps, but it’s  _ really  _ about momentum and torque - you know, we could go back to my…” He lowers his voice, “ _ place  _ and I could build a model to show you.”

“How about later? After all, we’ve got a little more time.” 

They hadn’t been paying attention to the barker, but he yelled at Claude, “Hey! I want you to play one more game, double or nothing!” He sounded angry, one hand behind the mechanism, as he seemingly was trying to  _ fix  _ it. 

Edelgard gracefully bows out, explaining that she needed a little time away from the crowd. It wasn’t that she  _ wanted  _ to step away, no, she would have been content to spend the whole night arm in arm with Claude, but her head ached and throbbed as fireworks began to go off, so she stepped aside, into an alley. She closes her eyes.

“.... did the scout find?” she hears, first faintly, from down the corridor. 

“The Riegan brat,” a raspy voice, “ain’t there.”

Immediately, Edelgard finds her feet moving, quickly and quietly. She stays close to the wall, following the source of the sound. “Good.” the first voice responds. “That gives our men an hour to prepare.” 

Her heart is racing as she finds the source, the two men around a corner. She cannot help it, she must peek, and sees a man with purple hair in finery, and a knight captain. Whipping her head back, hopefully, before she can be spotted, Edelgard’s eyes go wide. “Should teach old Oswald for thinking he could defy you, sir.” the raspy one boasts.

“Hush. If we do this right, he will be none the wiser, until suddenly the old man ‘chokes’ on his food and no one can find the boy.” The man, who she can only assume is Count Gloucester, says. “Even our eavesdropper can agree.” 

Before she can think, she tears back down the alleyway. She’s only felt this fear once, a decade ago. She’d wriggled her way out of chains, and had run for her life - now is no different, except she emerges into a crowded square, and she finds a patch to disappear into.

Around the damn game, a barrier of people had formed, and, separated by the crowd, Edelgard holds back the need to shout. Instead, she simply pushes her way through, elbowing and shouldering and swallowing her fear. A breathy gasp forms when she’s finally free of the people, unaware that she’d been holding her breath.

Claude, unawares, smiles when she emerges. “Hey! Are you feeling better?” 

“Yes,” she lies, her stomach in knots. She wraps one arm around his middle, which Claude responds to graciously. “But, really, we must be going. It’s getting late.” 

“Is it?” Claude looks up, gauging the distance of the moon, and eyes her. If panic is readable on her face, she didn’t mean it. There’s a pause, and his face softens, but his eyes don’t change. “Really, sweetheart, if you’re not feeling well, you don’t need to lie to me.” He kisses her forehead, and she fights the urge to stiffen. “We must be going,” he tells the barker, before guiding her out of the crowd. 

The ruse worked, and the crowd split for them, some people even offering condolences to her. A jealous eye follows her, but she hopes that’s the only one. 

Eventually, they managed to get to the edge of the town, where Dunyazad waited, bored of terrorizing squirrels. Claude’s since let go of Edelgard, and she considers that both a blessing and a curse. “You’re whiter than a sheet.” he sounds genuinely concerned. 

“Yes, Claude, I am well aware that I’m pale,” she snarks, before, “Sorry.” 

They both climb atop the wyvern. “Tell me what happened.” He demands, and she nods. Dunyazad takes off, away from the town. 

* * *

By the time they’d landed, both Edelgard and Claude were balls of anxious energy. She had to have both of her hands on her knees to stop them from bouncing. Claude would have been the same, she’s sure, but he had the task of controlling the wyvern. Grateful for solid land, they stand in silence for but a moment. 

“Shit.” He swears, “Oh, stars damn it, Edelgard, what do we do now?” 

“I-- I don’t know.” She glances up at the sky. The wyvern ride had taken too long, damn it, they were only fifteen minutes out from midnight. “Let me go up into the tower first!” 

“What, so they can kill you, and then me?” 

“I have my…” she reaches back, before realizing no, she did  _ not  _ have her axe with her, and suddenly curses herself from this morning.  _ Hey, Past Edelgard, why did you ever expect a day to be peaceful?  _

“Exactly. No, you’re not going in there.” His voice is sharp, and deadpan. “I’m sure that bastard has it perfectly planned, too. Even if I had time to prepare…  _ Damn it! _ I’ll have no idea where they are, if it’s even one, and you’ve felt it - the pull in your stomach when you warp, it’s so disorienting, even if I guess right- _. _ ”

“Claude.” She responds with a heaviness, a grave terror in her throat. For a moment, she says nothing, simply standing near him and reveling in the closeness, looking at the chain around his neck. She’d learned so much in all her travels, in all her times, and yet, it feels like none of them can save him, suddenly. Perhaps she’s just terrified by the idea of losing him. “Please, let me go in first. Axe or no, I’ve traveled for years, I can fight off one attacker.”

“How do you know it’s just one?” Claude challenges, “Did Count Gloucester say  _ man  _ or  _ men? _ ”

“I-” and that stops her, because in all her panic, she couldn’t quite remember. “I do not know. Still- Let me protect you.” 

“I won’t let you be a self sacrificing fool.” And, as he says that, Claude moves closer, I’ve survived assassinations before, Edelgard.” He glances up again. “Five minutes.” 

“Five…” She sighs, and they both shrug in defeat. “What are you going to do?” 

He’s grabbing at hidden sheaths in his clothes - an impressive amount of knives, she must ask him how he manages it - and locks eyes with her. “My best? I can assume there will at least be two, for safety, and I can send Dunyazad up first to do some damage, even if it wrecks my room.” 

As he says that, Dunyazad perks her head up, and then he signals something with his left hand. The wyvern takes off, towards the tower, and the gust of wind she leaves behind eases none of Edelgard’s anxieties. Still, her eyes are caught by his necklace, and something hatches in her head.

“Can I give you a kiss? For good luck, I mean.” she asks, hurriedly. 

Claude raises his eyebrow, and then, nods. “Why not, Edelgard?” 

With only a few minutes to spare, he wraps his arms around her, resting his hands on her lower back; she puts her hands up against his collarbone, and then, pushes up onto her tiptoes. Their lips meet, and Edelgard feels like she’s suddenly a part of a much larger whole. As she draws her hand down his chest, playing with the buttons of his jacket, the only sense she knows is taste, and Claude is the sweetest wine she’s ever had. It’s all the more sweet when Claude draws her closer; she works one hand under the chain. He must feel it, for her starts to move. 

In one fluid movement, Edelgard rips the chain away from his neck, hearing the shattering of silver. Almost immediately, Claude pushes her away, pulling a dagger. Of course, he must have thought the pain of the chain ripping was something else. So, she even steps back, the necklace dangling in her closed fist.

“What did you  _ do? _ ” His free hand covers his throat, checking himself for wounds, before reaching down to pat at where the jewel once was. 

“You said  _ you  _ couldn’t remove it.” Edelgard explains, “I assumed that wouldn’t exclude someone like me trying to help you.”

“You could have just taken it off of me  _ normally,  _ if that was your idea!” He’s chastising her, but laughing. Oh, what a blessed, lovely sound. Their laughter fills the air, together. Then, he reminds her, “Put it down!” 

“Oh, yes,” She quite literally drops the piece, leaving it to disappear into the flowers. “May I?” she asks, gesturing forward. 

“Huh?” He puts his knife away, before nodding. She approaches, and Claude doesn’t hesitate to drag her against his chest. His grip is tighter than before, chin resting on top of her head. 

“Are you okay?”

“Ask me in…” He looks up at the sky, “One minute. Then it’ll be midnight.” 

When the minute passes, and the two of them are still surrounded by flowers on a cloudless night, Edelgard leans up, to press her nose to his. As she does so, Claude can’t help but smile for her. “What now?” she asks. 

“Well, I’ll need to try and have the Count arrested for attempting to assassinate me, and the kidnapping, and that’s not talking about how much work I’m going to have to do to get the Counts to listen to me. When I went away, my grandfather was a convalescent, so now, I doubt I’ve got long until the line of succession passes, if you… get my drift.” 

“I do.” She nods. “And then, of course, a mind like yours must have some big plans in mind.”

“How’d you guess?” 

“Call it intuition.” Edelgard pauses, before finally pulling back a little bit. Only to lay her head on his shoulder, but, still. “Can I fit into this future?” it’s the most honest question she thinks she’s ever asked. 

“Well, Edelgard,” he starts, his voice sounding surprisingly official. “It’s tradition that each Duke bring in a new court portrait artist, and though I’m not one for traditions… For you, I’ll make an exception.”  He kisses her forehead, and adds, “How much do you know about politics?”

She  _ almost  _ admits that she was born in it, but decides, that’s tomorrow-Edelgard’s problem. Today-Edelgard has nothing to worry about, except the albino wyvern, landing behind them and nosing her snout in between them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! hope you enjoyed today's piece! today's actually ya girl's 21st, but feel free to bother me on twt or tumblr, both are @duelbraids !


	2. the girl and the monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a pink ribbon, a lying emperor, and the stars bring together a monster and a heroic prince.

The Adrestian Court was alight with possibility today. An Almyran prince was visiting for the first time in many years, and the people of the court and commonwealth were readying for his arrival, hoping to form a peaceful, long lasting bond. And what a better man to do it. His mother was a Fodlanic young woman, and his father, the honorable king of Almyra. Prince Khalid contained all his parent’s multitudes, brilliant and wise and kind in the end. 

He was a near breath of fresh air to the people there, and many gossiped about his virtues. Adrestia was just one of his many stops throughout Fodlan, and it was told that he had solved one town’s water crisis, and in another, had averted an all out war between two rival clans. Many hoped, foolishly, that he might end their plight.

The Emperor, a man old with long, brown hair, had waved the young man into his office after the official greeting for him. Prince Khalid kept his distance, refusing to sit down. 

“I do apologize,” he began, “That your company will only be a man five times your age.” 

Prince Khalid made a face, but let the old man’s math slide. “That is curious, that a man with many portraits of children seems to have none running about.” He then cocks his head, “I must admit, it’s worrying, actually.” 

“That is one thing I wished to ask of you.” The Emperor explained, before coughing, ratherly loudly, into his hand, “All of my children were captured, and then killed, by a monster, you see.

“There was a plague that swept the castle, and in order to keep them safe, I quarantined my children. My sister, Anselma; she stayed with them in a little summer house, in the woods east of Enbarr. But, one by one, my children were killed by a horrible monster, and my sister has vanished…” 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Khalid stiffens, and eyes him. “What… what is known of the monster?”

“Many men have tried to kill it - it has a leathery, hard hide, and its eyes glow with the taunt of death. Its claws are enough to tear through armor, large enough to skewer a man through…”He trailed off, before eventually saying, “I would ask this of you - not as a favor, heavens no, but as a quest, of sorts, if you’re the type.”

“I could be.” Khalid knows he’s well known for genius, but a  _ quest?  _ **Against that?** He was brave, but not a fool.

“My final, living daughter - well, I think she is living - is being kept captive by that monster, in that old summer home, though it’s now surrounded by a natural moat. I would ask you what I have asked of all capable young men. Would you kindly try and rescue her? You would be rewarded handsomely, Prince Khalid,” the Emperor seems to think, and then adds, “I could… Arrange a marriage, if that is something you’re interested in.” 

“I am not.” He quickly shuts down that train of thought. Adrestians and their political marriages gave him just a little bit of a headache. But, it is a chance to improve their relations, and Khalid had to admit, that sounded like a fantastic idea. “However… Tell me more about these woods, and what to expect. After all, it’s the job of a prince to help those in need, and your daughter certainly sounds like she’s in need.” 

* * *

He rose early, early that next morning, before the sun had even come out, The sky was still grey streaks when he was in the garrison, pacing bags of things. He looked up, to a guard readying for his day. “What do you recommend I bring to… confront the monster in the summer home?” 

“The Hegemon?” the man questions.

“So, that’s what it’s called?” Khalid notes that, in his head. 

“A-yup.” he replies, “Guess the ol’ emperor’s given you the usual spiel? That monster gets stronger by moonlight, so fight it by day, and even if the princess is dead, get revenge?” 

Eyeing the man’s face, Khalid chuckles. “Yeah. He was real insistent, too.  _ No matter what. _ ” 

Something about the twitch of the man’s lips makes him… uncomfortable, is the best word. The knight’s face says he knows something Khalid doesn’t, something he can’t guess. Everyone here seemed to lie, and sure, it wasn’t much better back in Almyra, but there was something different here. Something… bigger. 

Though he wishes he’d had more connection with his Fodlanic family, Khalid sometimes cannot blame his mother for saying he could not go as a child. After all, at least ten royal children died in Adrestia. Yet, he’d heard it to be more hospitable than most, at least, to outsiders. Well, he supposed it was a bar on the ground. Not hard to step over. 

“Can’t blame him,” the man shrugs, polishing his spear. “After all, it’s killed his kids.” As the guard stands, he turns to Khalid, “I’d like to give you a run down, if that’s okay. There’s some things we keep secret, so teens don’t try and get any ideas. After all, that thing is huge, a beast, really.”

Khalid gestures outwards, with both of his hands. “I’m all ears.”

“Here’s what we know:” Suddenly, his voice goes from light hearted to rather dour, “The thing’s fireproof, so don’t bother burning it. It cowers at the sight of a steel dagger - make sure it’s polished, something about the light scares it.” 

As he speaks, Khalid grabs his dagger, and the man hands him some polish. “Now, it will try and trick you. It cries out for mercy-”

“Have you ever tried _ giving  _ it mercy?” Is his immediate response.

“It’s a monster, Prince Khalid.” The man responds. “But, you can get it to be still and talk with you, if you give it gifts. One man tried his best to negotiate for the princess, but we’ve not figured out what’s enough for it.” 

“Well, what kind of gifts are there?” Khalid tilts his head. “What works, and what do you get?” 

“Baubles, mostly. It likes anything shiny, flowers, stuffed animals, ribbons. That sort of thing. We think it gives these things to the Princess, maybe to placate her. But, then, it’s got an absolute hoard of the things.” The guard shrugs, “It’ll answer questions, but I doubt it tells the truth.” 

He felt the intense need to say the guard had rocks in his brain. A monster afraid of the knights that come to kill it, who’d answer questions for bear stuffies? He was pulling his leg, but he talks with such dead seriousness that he  _ knows  _ the guard is telling the truth. And what a strange truth it is. 

So, before he heads out, Khalid buys a small bear, a carnation, a copper spyglass, and a pink ribbon, just in case. He’d like to bargain for her release, if at all possible. 

* * *

Sunset was two hours out when he finally arrived at the home in the woods. It was dilapidated, the wood had turned dark and had rotted. The front door was ripped, off its hinges. Khalid didn’t  _ want  _ to enter through the front door, but as he scouted around, it seemed the only option. No windows were big enough for a human to climb through, and there was no back door, not even a servant entrance. Surrounding the property is old flooding that hasn’t drained.

He landed his wyvern about fifteen yards away from the front door, and told her to stay just in case he needed a quick escape. 

Approaching the house, he hears a horrible, terrible growling. “ _ Leave,”  _ the monster is hissing, and Khalid feels himself freeze. “ _ Leave, fool, and don’t return.”  _

“I have something to ask of you.” He calls back, continuing to walk forward. 

_ “I have no answers.”  _ It responds. “ _ Only your doom.”  _

Oh, good. 

Still, Khalid peeks past the edge of the door, his bow drawn. The house doesn’t appear that ruined, for a place with a supposedly grotesque monster living in it. The Hegemon is not within sight, but the Emperor said it towered at around thirteen feet, with three sets of wings. Yet, there wasn’t much destruction - a few knocked over books and vases, but not what he expected. He enters in, and the wooden floor creaks beneath him. 

First, he comes upon a sitting room. It’s small, and empty, with two couches and a chaise, all covered in dust, but a fire is crackling inside the hearth. Like they told him, there were a few stuffed animals on bookshelves and one sitting on the couch. Khalid’s immediate instinct is to check the pile of blankets next to the hearth, but as he nears it, a roar rips behind him. He turns on his heel, and is met with the monster he’d been warned of.

As it rears its claws, long, unnaturally extended, claws the Hegemon bellows, “ _ Did I not tell you to leave!?”  _ It’s voice is surprisingly  _ frightened  _ up close. Like a cat, hissing at the human who found its hiding place.

Before the beast could make contact with him, Khalid pulled his dagger - the firelight caught on the edge of the blade, and he watches as the Hegemon shrinks away, into a corner. “ _ Please-- Don’t--!”  _ It cries out, screams, and Khalid is shaken by the sound. 

“I will not hurt you, so long as you don’t hurt me.” He waits, and the creature nods its head, seemingly shaking, “I only have a few questions, and then I will leave you be.” He explains, reaching into his pouch, “I even have something for you.” He shows the Hegemon the four objects, and when he’s certain it’s attention is caught, he places them away.

The face of the Hegemon is nearly hidden in long, white hair, but he sees it cock its head. “ _ Oh? _ ” it almost  _ coos.  _ Strangely childlike. “ _ One gift for one question. _ ”

So, Prince Khalid begins, pulling the pink ribbon out first. “What happened to the children of the Emperor? Did you kill them?” 

“ _ That’s two questions. _ ” the Hegemon counters. “ _ Two questions, two gifts. _ ”

“But, they are related questions, wouldn’t you agree?” Just the ribbon, he’s telling it.

“ _ Fine. _ ” it sighs, and deflates down. “ _ The children were killed by their uncle. He is a sorcerer, who used their bodies for rituals. _ ” 

“Did he use those rituals to summon you?” Khalid feels like it’s not telling him the whole truth - more truth than he’d been told before, certainly, but still not all of it.

“ _ The ribbon. _ ” it demands.

Khalid holds it out to the Hegemon, and it snatches the ribbon away from him. Much to his  _ bafflement,  _ the Hegemon ties the ribbon around its throat, like a necklace. “Alright. Did the royal childrens’ uncle use those rituals to summon you?” 

“ _ Not quite.”  _ It returns, and the way it stands, it’s almost preening. “ _ What would you give me? _ ”

That gives him pause, and he thinks about the severity of the question, and brings out the flower. “Would this suffice?”

The Hegemon swayed its head as it considered, before nodding. “ _ He did not summon me.”  _ it explains, voice somehow… less harsh? It sounded less and less like a monster the more he spoke with it. “ _ He  _ **_made_ ** _ me, using the ten children as… prototypes. _ ” 

_ Ten?  _ Khalid takes note of that - it meant the Princess was alive. He studies the monster, as it takes the flower. The Hegemon put the flower in her - its, he corrects himself, its - hair, nestled next to its horns. “Tell me, are you telling the truth?” And, to keep up his end of the bargain, he brings out the stuffed bear. 

“ _ What reason do I have to lie? _ ” It challenges, looking up at him. For the first time, he catches the monster’s eyes, but they’re nothing like what the Emperor and knights had described. He hated to sound stereotypical, but its eyes were the color of jewels, beautiful rubies, though its sclera were dark as night. “ _ If I answer honestly, you’ll leave. I’ll give you that one for free. _ ” 

“How generous…” Khalid eyes the Hegemon, waiting for anything to happen - either it to grab at him or for it to attack, but when neither happens, he then asks, “Why don’t you simply escape?”

“ _ I cannot swim. _ ” And the Hegemon takes the bear, holding it close. It doesn’t seem very happy to talk about that. “ _ You’ve got one question left. _ ” 

Khalid doesn’t need to think about this one, as he takes out the spyglass, demonstrating its use by examining her face. Under the feathers and hide, almost like she’s under a cloak’s hood, there was a white haired girl who Khalid is so certain he’s seen before. “What is your name?” he asks her. 

At that, the Hegemon stiffens back up, still holding the bear. “ _ You would not believe me. _ ” 

“Alright.” Khalid puts the spyglass away, slowly, tauntingly, and turns. “Well, I have to leave, and tell the Emperor that I could not find the Princess.” 

“ _ Wait. _ ” The Hegemon calls to him.

“Hm?” 

“ _ What is that? _ ” She asks him. “ _ The… thing you put away, what is it? _ ”

“Answer my question, and I’ll show you.” 

“ _ I can’t. You won’t- _ ” She sighs, “ _ Wait here, with me, until the sun goes down. Then we’ll show each other. _ ” 

As the hour had turned later, eventually, Prince Khalid had moved to the hearth, and the Hegemon had followed, curled up on herself. Part of him was curious as to why they had to wait, and yet, he’s a little glad. His heart is beating in a strange, rapid paced way. They’d been talking the whole time, and for a monster, the Hegemon was a witty girl. “I think it’s night now. At least, the crickets are acting as such.” 

“ _ I would ask you to look away. _ ” she tells him, moving back towards the door. 

“Then it doesn’t count as  _ showing  _ me.” Khalid reminds her. Being strict on the terms of the deal was the best way to bargain with any kind of fae, demon, etcetera, or so he’s learned. From experience, of course. 

“ _ Alright.”  _ She swallows, and he watches as she reaches her hand to her shoulder, grabbing what is at first a piece of skin and then suddenly a clasp, undoing it and bringing it off her. A piece of leather slinks off and hits the floor. In a flash of feathers, there’s no longer an incomprehensible beast, but a young woman, his age, with the face he’d seen under the mats of hair. She’s absolutely beautiful, which Khalid finds  _ quite  _ unfair. Her eyes still shine at him, glittering red. She crosses the room, barefooted and in a thin, white dress, speaking as she does. 

“You wanted to know my name.” she pauses, and she sits down next to him, “I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, the last princess.” 

Khalid has to recover from being tongue tied, and manages out, “I-” It’s exactly what he hypothesized, but somehow, she’s already slipped under the many walls he usually puts up. “My name is Khalid al Mirza. It’s good to know I won’t have to tell the Emperor that you’re dead.” 

“You really should.” Very quickly, Edelgard tries to recover, “I mean, he would stop sending people to kill me.”

“I suppose so.” Khalid answers, hesitant. He knows, there’s a very important question he should ask her, “Why don’t you always stay like this, Edelgard?” Khalid asks her, “If you can shed your other form, why not stay human? People would stop coming after you, you could go home, your father seems to miss you-”

“I cannot.” Is how she answers, strained in her throat, though there’s confusion in her eyes, “Without the Hegemon’s skin, the sunlight will kill me. So I can only be me at night.”

Khalid found himself squinting at that. “And how do you know? Have you tested this before?”

“No. I  _ do  _ know I get pains when I am without the Hegemon skin, but I’ve never risked going outside.” She sheepishly admits. “I only know because they told me so, and I have no reason not to believe them.” 

“They?” Khalid asks, “You only mentioned your uncle before.” 

“He had… assistants? I don’t know what to call them, but they facilitated the rituals.” She explains to him, looking down at her hands. His gaze trails down too, and since they’ve changed from claws to the dainty fingers of a young princess, they’re covered in intense scarring. These scars are on her arms too, revealed by the sleep dress. 

Khalid doesn’t mean to, but he pulls her hands into his. “Still, I don’t… I don’t think that’s true.” But she gives him a look, one that’s pointed, one that shows she’s not interested in arguing this, and Khalid considers maybe, given that she could go and grab that Hegemon skin and rip him apart, that it was a terrible idea. So, instead, he brings the spyglass back out. Her eyes go wide, full of some childlike wonder. His heart catches in his throat. “Now, would you like to learn how to use a spyglass?” 

She nods her head, excitedly, so they move to the front door, but she grabs a blanket first, wrapping it around her shoulders. Khalid watches this all, almost wanting to laugh. Then again, it is cold, so he can’t blame her. 

At the edge of the door frame, Edelgard stops. Khalid turns back around, and looks at her, eyeing the precipice. “Everything alright?”

“I…” She shakes her head, _no,_ and there is some grave, terrible secret on her voice, “I haven’t… been outside in years.” 

“Why not?” 

“Moonlight is simply reflected sunlight, Khalid.” she responds, trying to sound calm - and Khalid knows she’s not. He offers his hand to her. 

“We’ll stay right outside the door, okay?” he coaxes. “Any pain, and you can dash right back in.” 

Silently, she takes his hand. Once they step outside, the song of crickets and owls overwhelms them. Edelgard gives a small smile; she’s staring up, up at the stars, and her eyes are so wide. In a moment, they arrange themselves so that Khalid is behind her, and holding the spyglass so she can look through it.

“Close your right eye,” he tells her, “And put your hands around the spy glass, like this, make sure you don’t touch the lens. Twist the upper chamber in and out to magnify what you see.” 

“O-Okay.” She seems suspicious of him, but he knows when she’s followed his instructions, because she gasps. “Is this… what the stars have always looked like?” 

“What do you mean?” Khalid asks, realizing how close he is to her. 

“I don’t know.” She laughs as she speaks, “They’re just very bright, kind of like little twinkling lanterns. I sound very silly right now, don’t I?” 

Khalid hates to admit it, but he’s not looking at the stars, but rather, he’s turned his head to look at her. He doesn’t believe in fate, but _ this _ being fate, somehow, he could believe that. “No,” he responds, “That sounds right.” 

Without warning, she turns her head to face him. “Will you stay longer? I don’t have much company, as you can guess.” 

Somehow, he can understand the palpable loneliness, her isolation, so it's easy to agree, “Of course.” and he kisses her nose. He watches her pink, and she smiles. 

Fate. It had to be. 

* * *

Morning was soon, and yet, Khalid didn’t want to move. They’d since taken the blanket that Edelgard had around her shoulders and put it on the ground, so they could continue to watch the stars. Somewhere between talking about the big dipper and the hypocrisy of a non-elected senate, Edelgard had fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

“You know, if I could go home,” she had started, her head nestled firmly on his chest. “I think I’d change so much. Adrestia has been a mess for so long, the people are suffering, and really, it’ll always be the fault of the monarchy and nobles.” 

Khalid had run his hands through her hair, twirling the ends around his fingers. “Do you think the balance of power between the Ministers and Emperor isn’t enough?”

“Oh, no. Not when the Ministers are still determined by crests and money. A senate without any input from the people only serves to mock the idea of it.” Then, she’d nuzzled in closer, yawning. “Maybe that’s a problem for tomorrow.” 

Accepting her sweetness, Khalid had kept looking up at the stars, and now, he was pondering the grey of morning.

Throughout their conversations, Khalid had found his initial fondness growing stronger, as if the two of them had done this before. And, he’d found his conviction that there was no curse at all even stronger, that if Edelgard just stayed right here, she would be fine. But, he wasn’t going to force her to.

As the sun slowly encroached on the horizon, Khalid tried to gently rouse her. “Come, Edelgard, it’s almost morning.” She burrows her nose further into the crook of his neck. He hisses in laughter. 

Barely awake, she laughs too, “I didn’t know you were ticklish.” 

“Yes, yes,” he’s managed to push her off, and reminds her, “You’re the one worried about sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” she repeats, muffled, “Oh, _ sunrise- _ ” she scrambles up, and then, looks at him with wide eyes, “Khalid, please, you must leave. I don’t want you to- to have to see me like that.” 

“As you wish, Edelgard.” he stands with her, and stops her from walking by taking her hand (and she didn’t flinch, and some part of his brain felt like noting that.) He laughs. “I just need to figure out what to tell your father.”

“My father?” She looks at him with a question. “What do you mean-”

“The Emperor? The man who sent me to rescue and kill you. He claimed to be your father,” Khalid explains, choosing his words carefully. He doesn’t trust the man that much. 

“Khalid, my father has been dead for years.” She tells him, stepping away. “The only person who could be the emperor is my uncle- you’re working for him-” 

“No.” He sees her panic, and tries to step forward, but before he can say anything, the sound of pegasus wings echoes above him. They share a look, and he says, “Get inside.”

Khalid doesn’t mean to, but as he turns, he steps forward, putting more distance between the house and whoever would land. He doesn’t have his bow anymore, he’d left it in the house, alongside his dagger.  _ Damn it _ . He knows this pooling, heaviness in his stomach, and he knows to trust it. He stays on the balls of his feet. The pegasi lands, carrying a guard from the palace.

“Prince Khalid,” the guard calls, “I’m relieved to see you alive!” 

“Did the Emperor send you?” he asks. 

“Wel, of course, he wanted to make sure you survived your encounter with the monster.” The guard gave a very false smile, and Khalid returned it. As they begin polite niceties, he notices the blanket out on the lawn, mere feet away from the entrance, and then looks over Khalid’s shoulder. Khalid moves, to block his eyesight. “Where… where is it? The Hegemon, where is it?” 

“It was nothing for a genius strategist, like myself.” He boasts.

“Really?” The guard cants his head. His hands are behind his back. “Then who is that, standing at the doorway?”

Khalid knows he has a fifty-fifty chance of getting this right. Khalid knows that, if Edelgard is simply a girl behind him, then he should admit to finding the princess, and begin to call his wyvern to take her home, and meet the consequences of the Emperor there. But, if she is the Hegemon, then there is a terrible, horrible chance that he would have to at least battle her, so as to not arouse any suspicion. “Hm?” he questions, he tries to buy time.

“Prince Khalid,” the guard began, eyes still clearly trained behind him. “You’re acting very strangely.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” Please, don’t look.

The man glances past Khalid once more, catching sight of Edelgard, and his eyes widen, “Prince Khalid, I must apologize. You see, the Emperor really doesn’t want the princess back, and  _ really,  _ you were supposed to kill her.” There’s not a moment’s pause between him stopping and him revealing the dagger behind his back. “So you both must go.”

Khalid doesn’t even have the time to think; the man darts around him, feinting before going for the door. Making a second attempt, and following the man past the doorway, he manages to tear the knife away from his hands, before pulling the guard down. In the fallout, the knife clatters away. He takes the opportunity to put himself between the two. He sees Edelgard out of the corner of his eyes, and his foot hits against something heavy and leather - the Hegemon skin, and his weapons far in the opposite corner. With nowhere to run, Khalid isn’t sure what to do.

Rising, the guard mocks them, “Looks like the lovebirds are going to get  _ cooked! _ ” He sees fire spark on the end of the man’s fingers, and Khalid knows he has a split second to make a decision. 

So, he does the only thing he can think of; he grabs the large, cloak-like skin; he pulls Edelgard close, thinking it best to minimize the amount of space they take up. The heat of the fire burns above him, but he’s exactly right, the skin encapsulates them, and when the spell dissipates, Khalid looks out. The guard, dumbfounded, stares for a moment.

It’s the time that Khalid needs, sweet time to scramble for the dagger he had wrenched away, and turn it on the guard. 

With some remorse, some guilt, but only some, Khalid kills the man as quickly as possible. 

The moment of peace goes up in smoke, Edelgard shrieking out. He whips around on his heels, and sees her doubled over, arms crossed over her chest and holding her shoulders. In between her arms and her body is the Hegemon skin, or, what’s left of it. 

As it turned out, the Hegemon was not fireproof, and, quite the opposite. Though it had shielded them, there was no saving the skin, as it wrinkled and shrunk up like paper under an open flame. Edelgard, in a frozen terror, watches the Hegemon skin simply dissolve, trailing away from her. 

She’s left to grab at the pieces, before realization seems to hit her. Standing in the cold shadow of the house, she now has no tie to her curse, free from the burden of monsterhood. Khalid approaches her, but before he can say anything, she jumps up, wraps her arms around his middle, hiding her face in his chest.

Khalid finds it a miracle that he doesn’t wince or flinch

“Are you okay, love?” he asks. 

“It hurts, Khalid.” she wails, “Everything hurts.” 

Unsure what else to do, he moves to rub her back in circles; the change was not pleasant, Edelgard coughing into his chest. He glances down, and sees the trails of blood. “We need to go find a healer, Edelgard, we must leave-” She’s so pallid, so  _ empty,  _ and something in his mind connects

“- No!” she cries out, weakly. “I can’t- The sunlight-” 

“Will you please, just come outside with me?” 

“What will you give me for it?” A feeble attempt at sarcasm, even now. 

Without meaning to, he snorts, and then admits, “I’ll give you a kiss, if that sounds like a fair trade.” 

“It does.” she nods. Slowly, they move past the door, and golden, warm sunlight graces her. For the first time, he notices her freckles, she stops coughing, her grip on him lightens, and Khalid sees something in her eyes. They have turned a beautiful lavender. He’s seen these eyes somewhere before, and Khalid swears to himself, he doesn’t believe in fate. But people can change. She’s breathing heavily, “I-” 

A long pause. “I’m fine.” and she sounds so grateful, and she moves to him. Healed by sunlight, and that’s the least strange thing he’s heard of today. “You’re looking at me very strangely, dear Khalid.”

“You’re just too beautiful not to look at, my love.” She rolls her eyes, snorts, and they both lapse into silence. 

After another moment, one that lasts longer than they mean to. Khalid speaks, “What comes next?”

“A lot, I’m afraid. Getting my Uncle off the throne shouldn’t necessarily be hard, but proving to everyone that I’m capable of leading a country after all these years in isolation... Maybe they’d even be right, and we’ve been moving away from a centralized singular leader anyhow, some places are even entertaining elections. Perhaps it’d be better to complete that process and simply step down, remove the position of Emperor entirely-”

“Seems like a lot of changes.” Khalid responds. “But what about... _ us _ ? Not to sound self absorbed, but… Any chance you have room for me in all of that?” 

“Well, what about that kiss you promised me? I won’t answer your question until I’ve received it.” She’s looking up at him with a smirk on her lips, a mischief he’s sure both of them haven’t felt since they were kids. 

So, Khalid leans down, holds Edelgard close, and presses his lips to hers. When Edelgard tightens her grip on him, he reaches to cup her face, drawing his thumb over her cheek. She tastes like the finest wine he’s ever had, perfectly sweet and complex with a bite. Neither seem very experienced, but, hey, he can’t quite blame her for that. When they pull apart, it’s with the greatest reluctance. It feels weirdly familiar, but he loves her - what a day. Regrettably, they break apart.

“So?” he asks.

Breathless, Edelgard responds, “There was always going to be room for you, Khalid. Now, what was this about you being  _ Prince  _ Khalid-”

He knew he was forgetting something. Ah well, he could tell her on the wyvern ride back to Enbarr. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo, this is a long one, isn't it? as always, you can catch me @duelbraids on tumblr and twitter, and ty for reading!


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